


That Unwanted Animal

by Assthorn



Series: It's Not Fair [1]
Category: The Witcher (TV)
Genre: Aftercare, Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, BDSM, Blow Jobs, Bondage, But he doesn't know what BDSM is, Chasing, Dirty Talk, Dom Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Dom/sub, Emotionally Constipated Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Feelings, Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia Has Self-Esteem Issues, Impact Play, Jaskier shows him, M/M, Manhandling, Mind Fuck, No Beta, Porn with Feelings, Smut, Some plot if you squint, Subspace, Switch Jaskier | Dandelion, blanket permission to podfic, but not really, neck biting, responsible dom Geralt, sufficiently negotiated kink, under negotiated kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-24
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-03 08:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 12,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24347878
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Assthorn/pseuds/Assthorn
Summary: “I want to hurt you. I am so damaged inside I don’t even know how to fuck someone without wanting to hurt them. I…” Geralt trailed off, trying to find the words. “I want to shove you down and bite you and hit you. I want to make you cry, Jaskier.”OrGeralt is a dom but doesn't know it. Jaskier teaches him.
Relationships: Geralt z Rivii | Geralt of Rivia/Jaskier | Dandelion
Series: It's Not Fair [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1804354
Comments: 65
Kudos: 892
Collections: The Witcher Alternate Universes





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Title from the Amazing Devil, and the lyrics throughout is from their song Fair. If you live under a rock (like I did, until recently) you should give them a listen.
> 
> Constructive criticism is welcome.

Jaskier’s lips were soft against his, hands in his hair, body leaning in.

Geralt shoved him away roughly and stood up, taking several long strides away from the fire.

“Geralt?” Jaskier asked, looking up at him from where he’d landed on the ground. “Are you okay?”

Geralt grunted, turning his back to Jaskier while he tried to master himself. A moment later he heard Jaskier’s soft footfalls as he approached Geralt.

“If you’re not interested that’s okay. I just thought… you seemed…”

“I am interested,” Geralt bit out. “But if you know what’s good for you you’ll stop this.”

Jaskier laid a hand lightly on Geralt’s back, right between his shoulder blades. “Yes, I know, you’re the fearsome White Wolf and I but an innocent little lark,” Geralt could hear Jaskier’s eyes rolling. “Has it occurred to you that I _like_ that?”

Geralt shook his head, refusing to turn around but not walking away either. “I’ll only hurt you.”

Jaskier sighed, and his arms moved to circle Geralt’s waist. “You deserve to be happy,” He murmured, leaning his head against Geralt’s back. “And if this doesn’t make you happy then fine, I’ll stop and we’ll forget it ever happened. But if it does and you’re just refusing out of some kind of twisted, self-sacrificing nobility-”

“I _will_ hurt you.”

“No, you won’t.”

“Yes, I will!” Geralt roared, tearing away from Jaskier’s grasp. “While you’re thinking about soft kisses and sweet nothings, do you know what I’m thinking about?”

“Please enlighten me.”

“I _want_ to hurt you. I am so damaged inside I don’t even know how to fuck someone without wanting to _hurt_ them. I…” Geralt trailed off, trying to find the words. “I want to shove you down and bite you and hit you. I want to make you cry, Jaskier.”

Jaskier was quiet for a second and Geralt dared to look at his face. Instead of looking horrified, Jaskier was contemplative. He caught Geralt’s gaze and took a step forward. “You want me to be unwilling?”

“No,” Geralt ground out. “I want… I want you to like it. I want to abuse you and I want you to beg for it.” Shame coiled in Geralt’s chest and wormed its way up his spine. He's never admitted this to anyone; people already thought he was monstrous as it was.

“You want me to like it,” Jaskier echoed. “So what then? In this scenario of yours? What happens… after?”

“After?”

“Yes,” Jaskier spoke slowly, as if choosing his words very carefully. “After you manhandle me about and make me cry and beg and you’re finished with me… then what?”

Geralt frowned. His fantasies never really made it that far. “I suppose,” he said, “You’d be tired. So I’d get you into bed. Make sure you had some water if you needed it. Treat your injuries.”

“Geralt,” Jaskier’s voice was gentle and oh so fond. “Geralt, look at me.”

Geralt did not look at him. Jaskier’s tone suggested affection, but there was no way…

“Geralt,” Jaskier was back, his arms around Geralt’s waist again. Geralt didn't have it in him shove him away again so he just stood still. “There’s nothing wrong with you.”

“Most of the Continent would disagree.”

Jaskier sighed. “You know a lot of people like it rough, right? There’s nothing wrong with that.”

“I want to hurt you.” Maybe if he said it enough times it would sink in.

“Yes,” Jaskier replied. “But only in ways I agree to, right? You said you wanted me to be willing?”

Geralt grunted.

“Some people like it when it hurts.” Jaskier sighed and released Geralt, then took up his hand and tugged him towards the fire.

Geralt went. He felt exhausted. He had sworn he would never tell anyone, let alone the subject of his myriad and depraved fantasies. He had never expected to tell, and Jaskier was reacting so strangely, so against what Geralt would have predicted.

Jaskier pulled Geralt down and they sat side by side by the flagging fire. Jaskier cradled Geralt’s hand in both of his while he gazed into the middle distance.

“The Countess De Stael was a right Sadist.”

Geralt nearly chocked on his grunt.

“She loved to tie me up and drip hot candle wax all over me. Sometimes she would even run the flame along me. One time she-”

“Get to the point.”

“I stayed with her for months, Geralt, and mourned her when she ended it. I _loved_ it.”

Geralt sat quietly, brooding.

“I know that you and she are very different beasts. She had all kinds of tools and contraptions to overcome her relative lack of strength. I’m guessing you are more interested in using your hands and teeth and whatnot.” That fondness was back in his voice, warmer and stronger than ever. “Geralt, that thrills me. With you I could pull and struggle as hard as I wanted and I wouldn’t get anywhere unless you let me.”

“I…” Geralt started. He was going to say “I don’t want you to struggle” but as soon as he thought of it he couldn’t think of anything else. Pinning Jaskier down, one hand holding both of his. He could kiss and bite and explore and there would be nothing Jaskier could do but take it.

“I see the wheels turning in that thick skull of yours,” Jaskier said, brushing a lock of Geralt’s hair behind his ear. As if reading his mind, Jaskier shuffled over to the nearest bedroll and laid on his back, his wrists neatly crossed above his head.

Geralt looked at him for a long moment. Long enough that Jaskier was about to give up on the game when Geralt stalked over, grabbing Jaskier’s wrists roughly and straddling his hips. Geralt wasn’t gentle. He let the bard take his full weight and glared down at him.

Jaskier’s cheeks were flushed pink and his breath was coming a little faster; a little shallower. Geralt could feel Jaskier’s erection growing against his thigh and he hadn’t even _done_ anything yet.

Geralt leaned down, nosing at Jaskier’s neck. Jaskier tipped his head back with a whimper, completely baring his throat to Geralt. A feral growl tore from Geralt’s throat and he set his teeth on either side of Jaskier’s windpipe, biting down hard enough to hurt but not to break the skin.

Jaskier moaned and squirmed, tugging at his hands and rolling his hips.

Geralt released his jaws and sat back, letting go of Jaskier’s hands at the same time. Jaskier stayed where he was, gazing up at Geralt with blown-out pupils. Geralt could see his saliva glistening on the reddened skin of Jaskier’s throat and he couldn’t even recognize the storm of emotion whirling through him. He didn’t say anything but stood, retrieved the other bedroll and set it up beside Jaskier. Geralt pulled off his boots, did the same for Jaskier and laid down. He had the undeniable desire to touch, so he hauled Jaskier against his chest and threw the blankets haphazardly over them both.

***

The next morning Geralt woke up to sunlight on his face. That in itself was unusual- he normally woke up at dawn or just before. He tried to sit up but the weight of Jaskier’s head on his shoulder stopped him. The bard’s nose rested against Geralt’s neck and his soft, warm breaths fluttered over his skin.

Geralt resettled himself and stared at the sky, neither embracing Jaskier nor trying to slip away.

It wasn’t long before Jaskier started to stir, nuzzling closer to Geralt’s neck and flinging an arm over his middle.

“Morning,” Jaskier mumbled.

“Hmm,” Geralt replied, at a loss of what to do. He’d been sure that in the harsh light of day Jaskier would think better of his actions, but here he was…snuggling. Geralt opted to just lay still and wait for Jaskier to show his hand.

“Not that I don’t deeply appreciate it, but why are you not dragging me out of bed?”

“Hmm.”

“Are you freaking out?” Jaskier propped himself on an elbow so he could look down at Geralt’s intentionally blank face.

“I don’t ‘freak out.’”

“It’s okay,” Jaskier patted Geralt’s head as if he were patting Roach. “I’m okay. You’re okay- you’re okay, right?”

“Hm.”

Jaskier sighed, sitting up and stretching. When he tipped his head back it revealed the bruise on his throat.

The breath caught in Geralt’s lungs and he was flooded with equal parts guilt and pride. _He_ had put that there. He had _put_ that there.

Jaskier rubbed a hand over his face, trailed it down his neck and winced when his fingers brushed over the mark. A smile lit his face and he looked down, catching Geralt’s stormy expression.

“Yeah,” Jaskier said softly, running his fingers through Geralt’s hair. “You’re freaking out. I would offer to talk about it but we all know how that will- or rather, won’t- go. So how about we have some breakfast.”

Geralt grunted and sat up. The pair fell into their usual morning routine: tidying their campsite, having a cold breakfast since the morning was pleasant enough that they didn’t need a fire. Jaskier chattered through it all and Geralt mostly ignored him. It all seemed so normal. Domestic, even. Had Geralt ever noticed that before? How Jaskier moved around Geralt, never getting in the way but still accomplishing the tasks that Geralt hadn’t gotten to yet? How he did some of the things better than Geralt himself? How long had Jaskier been brushing Roach in the mornings? He packed the bedrolls so neatly and he hummed or chatted the entire time and the noise settled over Geralt like a blanket.

Geralt wanted to shove Jaskier against a tree and kiss him until Jaskier apologized- apologized for insinuating himself so seamlessly into Geralt’s life, for making things so easy, and then turning it all on its head and acting like nothing had changed. How was Geralt supposed to cope with Jaskier’s easy manner while the bard wore his mark? How was he supposed to cope with Jaskier being _right_? Geralt was freaking out.

Not that he’d ever admit it.

The camp was packed, Roach was tacked and Jaskier had finished tuning his lute. There was nothing left to do but mount the horse and go.

They had no destination in mind. It was springtime- Geralt and Jaskier had found each other early that year (in part because Jaskier had started travelling north as soon as the roads were passable, not that he had told Geralt that). They hadn’t discussed where they would go; Jaskier was happy enough to let Geralt choose.

The day passed uneventfully, and as the afternoon waned Jaskier pointed out a potential camping spot in a small clearing a little ways off the road. Geralt skirted the edges, nodded to Jaskier and dismounted.

Again, Geralt _noticed_. Of course, he is always aware of his surroundings, but he had stopped noticing Jaskier. But now he watched as the bard bent over to pick up sticks for the fire, occasionally picking a herb or flower as he went. Jaskier, singing under his breath, and this time Geralt listened to the words.

“ _…born to press my head between your shoulder blades at night when light is fading…_ ”

Jaskier returned to the charred area that had clearly been used as a fire pit before, “ _It’s not fair… It’s not fair how hmmm hm hmmm,_ ” Jaskier continued, half singing, half humming, and dumped the herbs in the small stew pot. He placed a flower behind Geralt’s ear and knelt to lean the sticks together for when they were ready to start the fire. “ _… dear heart it’s me…_ ”

Geralt should be hunting. That’s usually what he did as soon as a campsite was selected. He wasn’t usually around to see what Jaskier was doing. He didn’t usually eavesdrop on Jaskier’s serenades or get flowers tenderly placed in his hair. It was causing him to have _feelings_ and _emotions_ and he couldn’t name them, let alone know what to do with him. So he did the only thing he could think of, which was to stalk up behind Jaskier and grab the kneeling man by the hair.

“ _It’s me, you don’t need to pretend yo_ -AH!”

He yanked Jaskier’s head back and the bard let out a yelp but calmed when he saw who it was.

“Yes, dear?” He asked, gazing up at Geralt.

“I…” Geralt trailed off and he swallowed and tried again. “Is this… okay?”

“Yes,” Jaskier said, cheeks pink. “But maybe let me go for just a moment? Please?”

Geralt dropped his hand, immediately feeling ashamed. At least he knew what that emotion meant.

Jaskier scooted himself around so he was facing Geralt, though he remained kneeling. “First off, I promise you on my grandmother’s grave I will tell you the second anything is not okay, and I expect the same from you.” He paused expectantly so Geralt nodded. “Secondly, while sneaking up behind me and jumping me with no warning is… is a fun game, to put it mildly, I would appreciate at least a little bit of advanced notice so that I know it’s you and not a brigand or werewolf or something.”

“I’m sorry.”

“Forgiven,” Jaskier fluttered his hands in that carefree way of his. Then, to Geralt’s utter confusion and astonishment, Jaskier turned around and tipped his head back, positioned exactly as he’d been when Geralt had released him.

Geralt didn’t know what to do. He knew what Jaskier seemed to expect him to do, but the discussion... monologue, really, since Geralt had hardly spoken. Now he felt awkward and brutish and “the moment” that Jaskier was always going on about was gone.

Jaskier waited a few moments longer before sighing and getting to his feet. “It really is okay,” Jaskier said, wrapping his arms around Geralt and leaning his head on his armoured chest. “How about I help you take this off and then go wander aimlessly in the woods. There’s no one else around, right?”

Geralt grunted an affirmative.

“So if _someone_ should sneak up on me again I won’t be frightened. Or adverse,” Jaskier pulled back and winked cheekily at Geralt.

“Hmm,” Geralt agreed, still uncertain, but allowed Jaskier to help strip off his outer layers. His clothes were sweaty under the leather, so Geralt took his shirt off too. He ignored the way Jaskier’s eyes roamed hungrily over his scarred body because he didn’t know how to react. He laid his shirt out on the grass to dry (there was no creek nearby to wash it in) and set about laying out his armour, then the bedrolls and the packs. By that time Jaskier was no longer in the clearing, though Geralt could hear him crashing about on the edges of the woods.

It was… appealing; Jaskier inviting Geralt to hunt him. Obviously it was nothing like a real hunt, but it tempted Geralt’s predatory instincts. Besides, focusing on sneaking up on Jaskier without being noticed took his mind off of just how deviant, and, quite obviously ridiculous, this whole scenario was.

Even though Jaskier was about as spatially aware as a clam in its shell, sneaking up on someone who was expecting you was not without challenge. Geralt hung back until the time was right and Jaskier was suitably distracted. The bard was leaning against a tree in just his chemise and breeches- he must have left his doublet at camp- and was bending over to pick up something.

Geralt surged forward, grabbing the back of Jaskier’s neck and shoving him roughly. He trapped him between the tree and Geralt’s broad chest, pressing him hard enough that Jaskier would be able to feel the ridges of the bark digging into him.

“Eep!” Jaskier squealed, arms flailing uselessly at his side.

“This is what you wanted?” he growled.

“Ah, yes, this is… good. Do you think it’s good?”

“Hmm. Yes.” Geralt shifted his grip from Jaskier’s neck to his hair, pulling Jaskier’s head to one side so he could nuzzle the bard’s neck.

Jaskier was trembling but trying to keep it together. He was not doing very well at that, his hips already bucking back against Geralt. 

“You’ve caught me,” Jaskier continued, failing to conceal how this was affecting him. “Now what?”

“Are you always this excitable?” Geralt asked, rolling his hips slowly against Jaskier’s rear and pulling a weedy little moan from the man. “No wonder you can’t keep it in your pants.”

“I,” Jaskier huffed, fighting a little against Geralt’s hold. “These are exceptionable circumstances and-” He bucked his hips back again, grinding against Geralt’s growing erection. “It’s not like I’m the only one. Gods, Geralt, will you _do something?_ ”

Geralt replied by tightening his grip in Jaskier’s hair and biting down on the exposed side of his neck.

Jaskier moaned and redoubled his efforts, trying to turn around so he could look at his magnificent beast, so he could get a taste of his own before Geralt decides it’s over.

Geralt loosened his hold a little. If Jaskier was going to get hurt it would be because Geralt _decided_ to hurt him, not because the idiot couldn’t stop thrashing.

Jaskier took the opportunity and flipped himself around. He tried to reach for Geralt’s hair, but his massive arms were in the way and Jaskier let out a frustrated moan. “Geraaaalt,” he said, settling for hooking a thigh over Geralt’s hip and grinding into him. “Kiss me, _please_.”

“Ask me again,” Geralt said, nipping at the shell of Jaskier’s ear and gripping his hips to still his increasingly frantic movement.

“Geralt, it’s really not fair, you know? I… please, please kiss me. I’ll be good, just _please-”_ His words were cut off by Geralt’s lips. The kiss was sweet, but only for a moment. It turned harsh and probing and Jaskier was getting light-headed but he didn’t want to stop, couldn’t stop.

Geralt groaned into Jaskier’s hot, eager mouth. He wanted… he wasn’t sure what he wanted. He’d never allowed himself to treat a lover like this, not even the prostitutes who had said they liked it rough. Humans were so damn breakable and- fuck, he should really let Jaskier breathe.

Jaskier protested when Geralt tore his lips away, despite the fact his breath was coming in desperate pants, “Thank you,” Jaskier murmured, though he couldn’t remember why it seemed so important to say it. His legs felt weak and what if he just sat down for a moment? Jaskier slid to his knees, resting his head on Geralt’s hip with his arms wrapped tight around Geralt’s waist. He wouldn’t let him get away this time, he wouldn’t. He needed more, and as soon as he caught his breath…

On their own accord, Jaskier’s hands found their way to Geralt’s breeches. Half of the buttons were undone before Jaskier even noticed what he was doing. By the time he’d gotten his breath back he had Geralt’s cock out and a moment later it was in his mouth.

“Jaskier,” Geralt gasped, bracing one hand on the tree and gripping Jaskier’s shoulder with the other.

“Mmph,” Jaskier answered, teasing his tongue over the head of Geralt’s cock before taking him deeper.

Geralt wanted to grab onto Jaskier’s hair, wanted to shove inside that wet, sucking heat, but he didn’t want to choke him.

Then Jaskier chocked _himself_. Geralt’s cock hit the back of Jaskier’s throat and Jaskier gagged, squeezing at Geralt’s cockhead, and squeezing a groan out of Geralt’s lungs.

Jaskier drew back and coughed, and Geralt thought that would be the end of it, but Jaskier’s hands were there, gripping him and then his mouth was back and he was sucking and sliding and gagging again, but this time he didn’t pull off, just eased back a bit, working his throat before taking him deep again.

Why would he do this to himself? Geralt thought dimly as he panted and strained to hold still. Jaskier was on his knees, probably on twigs or rocks or who knows what. His skin was all roughed up from the bark, and he was intentionally sticking Geralt’s cock further down his throat than it could reasonably go. The whole ordeal had to be incredibly uncomfortable, if not outright painful, but Jaskier was doing it. For him.

“Jaskier,” Geralt ground out, clutching hard at Jaskier’s shoulder.

Jaskier groaned and hummed around Geralt’s cock and started move faster, hands and mouth stroking together and it was good, so good.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said again, louder, more pressing, and Jaskier took him deep, squeezing with his hands and throat and _humming_ and…

“Fuuuuck,” Geralt couldn’t help but snap his hips forward, shoving into Jaskier’s mouth and coming down his throat.

It was barely a second later when Geralt realized what he’d done and yanked out, cock slipping free with a filthy, slurping noise.

Jaskier was coughing and Geralt dropped to his knees to assess the damage.

“Jaskier, Jaskier,” Geralt murmured, running his hands over Jaskier’s throat and holding his head as the bard’s breath steadied.

Jaskier positively melted into Geralt’s arms; boneless, almost liquid.

“Shhh,” Geralt found himself saying, arranging Jaskier on his lap and stroking his hair. “That was perfect. You are perfect. You did so well. More than I…” Deserve, Geralt thought but didn’t say.

“Mm,” Jaskier croaked and coughed again, trying to get his feet under him.

“What is it?” Geralt leapt to his feet and helped Jaskier up.

“Water,” Jaskier rasped and coughed again.

Of course. Stupid. Geralt was about to sprint off for the water skin but stopped. He didn’t want to leave Jaskier here alone so scooped Jaskier up into his arms and ran to camp, depositing him on the bedroll and delivering the water as quickly as he could.

“Mm, thank you. Much better,” Jaskier said after he took a healthy gulp.

Geralt all but collapsed at Jaskier’s side, relieved that he hadn’t somehow ruined Jaskier’s voice. “You didn’t have to do that,” he said gruffly.

“Hmm? Oh, I suppose not. But the look on your face was worth it.”

“You couldn’t even see my face,” Geralt tried to retort, but his voice had none of the hard edges it usually bore.

“No, I guess not. But I can imagine it, and anyway, the noises you were making-”

“What noises?”

“Oh, you know, grunts and groans mostly but I really like the way you said my name.”

“You’re a menace.”

“So I’ve been told,” Jaskier yawned and slumped against Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt tried to wrap his arm around Jaskier, but the bard was so relaxed that he sort of slid down Geralt’s body, his head finding a place to rest on Geralt’s thigh. Having his face so close to Geralt’s cock reminded him of what they’d just been doing, and then he realized with a start that he hadn’t touched Jaskier- well, hadn’t touched him _there,_ anyway.

“Jaskier?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you…” Gods, he didn’t know how to do this. “Do you want…” Geralt slid his hand down Jaskier’s flank, resting on his hip.

“Mmm,” Jaskier said pensively. “That does sound lovely but I am knackered. Would you be terribly offended if I had a little nap? Maybe you could rustle us up some dinner?”

“I…” want to hold you, Geralt thought but shook it off. That wasn’t him. He wasn’t all soft and caring and… “I want to hold you.”

“Would you?” his lips tugged into a soft smile.

Hunting would have to wait. The most important- the only important thing right now was to take care of Jaskier. Geralt carefully moved his thigh out from under Jaskier’s head and laid down behind him.

“I always liked being the little spoon,” Jaskier murmured.

“Hmm?”

“You know,” Jaskier gestured. “Spoons.”

“Hmm.” Geralt didn’t press Jaskier to explain himself and instead gathered Jaskier in his arms. He would hunt tonight- he couldn’t let Jaskier go hungry, not when he worked so hard to please Geralt and didn’t even ask for anything in return. He would hunt, but not right now.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sooo I accidentally posted the third chapter instead of the second. So here it is, in the correct order. Guess y'all get two chapters today, lol.

Geralt was sitting on the edge of the lumpy inn bed, giving his armour the deep clean it had so desperately needed. He was in the midst of carefully tracing each and every silver rivet, scraping out the scraps of gunk that build up underneath. It was midafternoon- they had arrived at the town in the late morning and Jaskier had wanted to stop for supplies and to busk during the lunch rush. Geralt agreed, if only to get caught up on tasks that had gone undone for too long.

The door to the small room swung open and Jaskier came bounding in, chattering and stowing his things and generally disrupting the quiet peace that had preceded his arrival. When Jaskier had completed mussing their tiny room: lute case in the way of the door while the lute itself was more carefully stowed leaning against a corner. Why wasn’t the lute in the case? That’s between Jaskier and the gods. His doublet tossed on top of Geralt’s neat pile of bags, while Jaskier’s bags were spilling off the foot of the bed and onto the floor.

Then Jaskier himself, the agent of chaos, climbed on the bed (disturbing Geralt’s carefully laid out cleaning supplies) and sat behind Geralt, bracketing Geralt’s thighs with his.

Geralt thought about asking Jaskier what he thought he was doing, but decided to save his breath. Ever since their… games, Jaskier seemed to think he was allowed to touch Geralt at will. Geralt didn’t mind- most of the time. But it had only been a week- maybe ten days- which wasn’t enough time for Geralt to get used to the new level of intimacy Jaskier seemed to fall into so naturally.

Jaskier’s arms found their way around Geralt’s waist and he leaned his head against his back.

_I was born to press my head between your shoulder blades_

That song was getting burned into Geralt’s brain, one line at a time. It was clearly a work in progress since Jaskier kept changing around the words and chords, but that part remained consistent. That, and _it’s not fair_ , although Geralt had yet to find out what, precisely, wasn’t fair.

Geralt did his best to ignore Jaskier, which shouldn’t be so hard as the chatterbox was quiet for once. He was breathing deep and relaxed against his back but he was distracting. His heat, his nearness, his hands gently resting on Geralt’s stomach. It was so… intimate.

“How are you doing, my dear?” Jaskier murmured eventually, as if even he was reluctant to break the (mostly) comfortable silence, but couldn’t help himself.

My dear. _My_ dear. Last time it was just “dear.”

Geralt grunted by way of reply, but his mind began to wander back to their games in the woods. Every day that they didn’t play Geralt felt stranger and stranger about initiating something. And now that they were in town, with other people talking and sweating and fucking nearby, Geralt’s self-consciousness increased. What if that’s all he got? What if Jaskier has decided he’d rather have soft cuddles than rough manhandling? Geralt couldn’t blame him, but he mourned the loss. He hadn’t even gotten to fuck the bard.

Geralt wasn’t totally naïve; he had some idea of how that happened in the absence of a cunt, but he did wonder about it. Wouldn’t it hurt the receiving party? Would Jaskier allow it? Jaskier seemed to like pain- a little bit, anyway, so maybe he would like that.

Geralt was starting to grow hard, but Jaskier couldn’t see and Geralt ignored it and continued working. He was almost done his second pauldron, anyway, which was where most of the “monster goo” tended to collect. He let it sink to the floor and leaned back against Jaskier.

“Something I can help you with?” Geralt asked gruffly.

“Hmm?”

“You're breathing is fast, I can smell the hormones in your sweat, and your hard-on is sticking into my back.”

“Oh,” Jaskier giggled. _Giggled_. Honestly. “I’m sure we can find something to do.”

“I…” Geralt swallowed. He felt like a fool for not knowing this already, but if he wanted to do it he needed to ask. He steeled himself and ploughed ahead. “Does it hurt to get fucked?”

Jaskier squeezed Geralt affectionately. “It can, yes, if you do it wrong.”

“How do you do it right?” was the natural reply.

“Well… would you like me to show you?”

Geralt was quiet for a moment. It hadn’t occurred to him Jaskier might want to fuck _him_. He wasn’t so sure how he felt about that idea, but if he was going to do it to his bard, he should know what it felt like.

“Or I could just tell you what to do with me,” Jaskier was quick to add.

“No, I’ll… try it.”

Geralt could feel Jaskier’s smile on his cheek right before it was kissed.

“One question though, my dear, when was the last time you took a shit?”

“Jaskier…”

“I only ask because I don’t want to be traversing a tunnel that is… occupied.”

Of course. Gods, Geralt felt so stupid. “This morning. Should be… fine.”

“Hmm, excellent.” Jaskier started kissing at Geralt’s neck, giving his tiny, sharp little nips and actually, that felt pretty nice…

“Let’s get you undressed, if you don’t mind,” Jaskier murmured, gripping Geralt’s shirt and tugging it upwards. Geralt lifted his arms obligingly. “Mmm, thank you. And these too, if you please.” Another tug at the waist of his breeches. Geralt stood and peeled them off, along with his underthings. Jaskier took the opportunity to shimmy out of his own clothing with impressive speed.

“Lovely,” Jaskier trailed his hands over the parts of Geralt that he could reach, then pulled him back towards the bed. “Lie down, darling. There, thank you.”

“You don’t have to… _fawn_ , Jaskier.”

Jaskier stopped, looking at Geralt with such a soft expression that Geralt had to look away because of the rush of feelings. He hadn’t gotten any closer to figuring out what they meant- rather, he had been ignoring them and hoping they would go away. But when Jaskier looked at him like that he couldn’t ignore it so he blocked out the stimulus instead.

“I don’t have to, but I want to. Does it bother you?”

So much for ignoring the feelings. Geralt looked back at Jaskier and allowed himself to feel. He didn’t know what it meant, but aside from that was it bothersome? Not really. No, it felt sort of… good. “No,” Geralt grunted. “It doesn’t. Bother me.”

A smile spread over Jaskier’s pinked cheeks and he leaned forward to kiss Geralt. “Now, darling, I’m not averse to going rough, if you’d prefer. But I thought this would be nice.”

It was. “It is.”

Jaskier hummed in reply and kept kissing Geralt, all over his face, in a line down his jaw. Jaskier’s sharp little teeth gripped Geralt’s ear lobe for a minute, making him jump at the pleasant sting.

“Thank you for letting me… thank you,” Jaskier whispered into Geralt’s ear then ran his tongue along the outer shell. “Oh, how I’ve wanted to have you all laid out like this, for me. Allowed to touch you however I want.”

Geralt grunted but it came out almost a moan. He was hard now, cock bobbing in the breeze because Jaskier was hovering over him instead of laying on top of him and he might be getting pampered like a courtier, but that doesn’t mean he’s lost his strength. Geralt grabbed Jaskier by the hips and dragged him onto his chest.

It was Jaskier’s turn to moan. “You know what that does to me, don’t you,” he said, wiggling to arrange himself comfortably on Geralt’s chest and between his thighs. Their erections pressed together and Jaskier sighed. “Oh, that’s lovely, don’t you think? You are allowed to talk, you know.”

“Jaskier,” Geralt ground out. “I am about four seconds away from flipping you over and fucking you through the mattress if you don’t do something besides _talk_.”

“Who’d had thought you would be so good at talking dirty,” Jaskier said, going for cheeky but delivering breathy.

“ _Jaskier!”_

“Yes, yes, dear heart, I will take care of you,” Jaskier slid his hand between them to grip Geralt’s cock, causing Geralt to buck up into his hand. “Good, good. It’s easier if you’re turned on. Do you want me to-”

“Just get on with it!” Geralt growled.

“So bossy,” Jaskier said affectionately and sat up. “Would you mind turning over please?”

Geralt sent him a murderous look and did as requested. At least he could rut against the damn bed if Jaskier was going to take so bloody long.

Jaskier skated his hands down Geralt’s spine, resting them on his tense buttocks. He started to knead them, at first just massaging. As he went he started pulling the cheeks apart, causing Geralt’s hole to stretch slightly.

“That’s it,” Jaskier crooned, running his fingers closer and closer to the centre.

“Is this really necessary?” Geralt bit out. The touches were welcome, but they clearly weren’t enough and his cock was hard and part of him was tempted to just reach down and take care of himself.

“Yes, it’s necessary,” Jaskier’s voice contained a hint of sharpness, but softened almost immediately. “Just… trust me, okay?”

Geralt stilled. Yes, he could do that.

“Now, not everyone likes this and that’s okay. So you will tell me how it feels, yes?”

Geralt grunted.

Jaskier’s thumbs drifted inwards and started stroking and pressing at Geralt’s asshole and it was strange, though pleasant. It made Geralt feel incredibly vulnerable, but he did trust Jaskier (further than he could throw him, even). Geralt did his best to relax and just feel.

Sensation spider-webbed out from his hole, going first to his cock but also spreading over his skin. It was a strange sensation, but it was good. Geralt let out a soft moan of encouragement.

“Oh, good, yeah, that’s good,” Jaskier said softly and Geralt glanced back over his shoulder to see Jaskier looking absolutely transfixed. “Relax for me, that’s the way. I’m just going to- oh bollocks, I forgot the salve. One moment, don’t move.” Jaskier leapt off the bed and started rooting through the mess of things that were now mostly tumbled onto the floor. “Ah hah!”

“What’s that?” Geralt asked, turning on his side so he could see the jar of… stuff that Jaskier was holding.

“My special recipe,” Jaskier said proudly, skipping back to bed and pushing at Geralt’s shoulder to get him to lay back down. “You need to use something slippery or it is really no fun for anyone. Most people use oil, but it’s messy and runs but this, oh, this stays where you put it and it laaaaasts!”

Geralt couldn’t help but smile at Jaskier’s enthusiasm.

“Now where were we? Ah, yes, I was just about to slide the veeeeery tip of my finger in, just try to relax, that’s it.”

True to his word, he only pushed in a tiny bit with one finger, while the thumb of the other hand continued its external massage and those spider webs turned into fireworks.

Geralt grunted in pleased surprise and found himself rolling his hips back against Jaskier, trying to take in more.

“Ooh, I think you like this, don’t you, dear? That’s good, that’s very good. Let me go a little deeper.”

Geralt moaned, louder this time, bucking his hips up towards Jaskier’s hand, then down to rut into the bed and oh, oh, if he could just keep doing that…

“Easy, easy,” Jaskier pressed onto his hip. “I think you’ll like this next bit, if I can find it. Do you want to try a second finger?”

“Yes,” Geralt grunted and bucked again, heedless of Jaskier’s hand trying to stop him.

Jaskier withdrew his finger, which Geralt protested heartily but fortunately he returned quickly, two of his slim fingers pressing into him and this was even better.

“Fuck,” Geralt said.

“Yes,” Jaskier replied, pushing all the way in and curling his fingers and rubbing and-

“FUCK!”

“There it is,” Geralt could hear the smugness in the bard’s voice and he wanted to do something about it, but the truth was he should feel smug and now Jaskier was rhythmically curling his fingers into that spot and Geralt couldn’t help but squirm, trying to get closer, trying to…

“Roll onto your side, darling, there you are, does that still feel good?”

Geralt moaned and bared his teeth, grabbing roughly at Jaskier now that he could see him, now that he could reach him more easily.

Jaskier was sitting on Geralt’s massive thigh, the one laying on the bed and his hand shifted the other leg so it was bent up, knee to the ceiling with his foot on the bed. This gave Jaskier excellent access to all of Geralt’s sensitive bits, but Geralt couldn’t reach him. Not unless he wanted to grab Jaskier’s hands, anyway, which he most certainly did not.

“I need,” Geralt gasped as Jaskier worked him with both hands, one in his arse the other one his cock.

Jaskier kissed Geralt’s bent knee and shifted so he could lay his own leg along Geralt’s body. Geralt grabbed onto Jaskier’s foot, hugging it to his chest. It felt a little impersonal, but that’s the only extremity Jaskier could spare and Geralt seemed satisfied by it.

Judging from the way Geralt was thrashing and biting down on Jaskier’s foot it’s not like this was going to last much longer anyway.

“Jask, Jask,” Geralt chanted.

“Yes, Geralt, please come for me. I want to see you fall apart, dear heart. Please, let me see you…” Jaskier babbled and fucked and stroked and Geralt saw stars and he was thrashing, rolling over onto his back and ripping Jaskier’s hands off of him in the process but now he could grab Jaskier and hold him and kiss him and when it was over Geralt quivered, face tucked into Jaskier’s neck while he combed through his long, tangled hair.

“Good, good,” Jaskier crooned. “You did so well with that. Oh, you’re a thing of beauty, Geralt, truly. That was superlative. I am almost without words.”

Geralt grunted, slowly coming down. Aftershocks still buzzed through him, but they were coming fewer and further between. Jaskier was still murmuring, but Geralt was listening to the tone rather than the words. Geralt grunted.

“What’s that, dear?”

“You didn’t fuck me.”

“Excuse you, I most certainly did! Do you not feel sated? We can go again, my hands are actually very strong you know-”

“I thought you were going to put your cock in me.”

“Oh, darling, not on the first try. We’re trying to keep this enjoyable, yes? It’s better this way, trust me.”

“But… you…” He looked down at the cock in question, and it was definitely interested. Geralt was trying to figure out how to offer to return the favour, but he had spoken quite enough for the night so he grabbed Jaskier by the shoulders and planted the smaller man face down on the bed.

A soft “oh,” escaped Jaskier, and a pleased hum when Geralt planted a hand in the middle of Jaskier’s back to hold him still. Geralt used his free hand to grip at Jaskier’s ass, squeezing and stretching in a rough imitation of what Jaskier had done. Except… except Jaskier had been gentle.

Geralt forced himself to dredge up more damned words. “Should I be gentler?”

“If you want but you know what this does to me,” Jaskier replied, wiggling against Geralt’s retaining hand to highlight his point. “Just, um, your cock is quite a bit bigger than… mm, yes, that’s good, a little more salve, please dear- ahhhhhhh, I may need…” Jaskier trailed off, huffing and groaning as Geralt pressed a thick finger into him.

Geralt paused, causing Jaskier to whine in protest. “You need?” Geralt asked.

“More than one session to be able to-to-to accomAHdate you. Oh, that’s it, that’s the spot, Geralt, please, please, please.”

Geralt worked at Jaskier’s hole, a little rougher than Jaskier had been with Geralt but still being careful. It was his free hand that delivered the pain that both men craved. He gripped Jaskier’s hair, hard, and forced the side of his face into the bed. Geralt occasionally gave a sharp yank to emphasize a thrust or curl of his fingers.

“More, please, Geralt, is that still only one? Gods, more,” Jaskier all but wailed.

Geralt pulled his finger free from Jaskier’s hold to slap him on the ass. It was more loud than painful, but Jaskier howled and frantically pushed his rear up. Geralt grunted approvingly and hit Jaskier again, harder, before slicking up and working two fingers inside.

Jaskier had only used two on Geralt, and they were much narrower than Geralt’s. Nevertheless, after a few moments Jaskier was begging again.

“Just one more, love, please, Geralt, one more, and…and…”

Geralt obligingly added a third and Jaskier tensed for a moment. Geralt started to withdraw, worried it was too much.

“No, no, it’s good. Just give me a moment before you…” Jaskier brought one of his hands to his cock, grasping at it desperately.

Geralt tightened his hand in Jaskier’s hair, tugging his head back so that his body bowed.

“You gonna come?” Geralt asked, twitching his fingers against Jaskier’s sweet spot. Jaskier rocked back against him so Geralt resumed a faster, harder rhythm. “You’re about to burst, aren’t you. What if I told you to stop?”

Jaskier froze, panting and sobbing a little.

“Hmm,” Geralt murmured. “Now you decide to listen to me? Typical. I didn’t actually ask, bard. Finish yourself off. I want to see you.”

Jaskier moaned in relief and moved. He moved his hips back against Geralt’s hand and moved his own hand over his cock. The only part of his body that didn’t move was his head, still held down hard against the mattress. He moved and moved until he stopped, toes curled as pleasure raced up and down his spine.

“Come now, don’t make me ask again,” Geralt snarled, curling his fingers into that secret spot and into his hair.

Jaskier’s cry was muffled by the mattress as he jerked and spasmed, emptying himself onto the bedclothes below. 

Geralt carefully withdrew his hands, wiping them off on the soiled bedspread. Jaskier tipped over onto his side, panting and boneless. Geralt spared a moment to pull the stained blanket off the bed before laying down behind Jaskier, allowing the bard to be the “little spoon” (Geralt still wasn’t sure what that meant, except that Jaskier liked having Geralt at his back).

Jaskier’s breathing slowly returned to normal, then slowed further. He was asleep within minutes.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I accidentally posted this as chapter 2. If you haven't read chapter 2 please go back and look over it. Things will make a little more sense that way.

“Will you stop complaining?” Jaskier admonished, working the soap through Geralt’s hair with deft fingers.

“You don’t need to-”

Jaskier withdrew his hands and dumped a bucket of clean water over Geralt’s head.

“Jaskier!”

“Done!” Jaskier said triumphantly, backing away from the tub. “Was that so bad?”

“Yes,” Geralt grumbled, slicking his (very clean) hair away from his face. “Are you trying to provoke me?”

Jaskier paused, a slight flush to his cheeks. “Well, no but... maybe? What would happen to me if I were?”

Geralt stood and stalked the few steps towards Jaskier. Jaskier took a step back but made no attempt to escaped when Geralt grabbed him roughly by the chin, growling.

Jaskier shivered, swallowed, and gathered the small towel in his hands then somehow managed to flick Geralt on the shin with the tip.

“Where’s your fucking salve?” Geralt demanded, shoving Jaskier towards his bags.

Jaskier found it in record time but before he could straighten up Geralt grabbed him around the waist and flung him into bed.

“Gods, Geralt,” Jaskier gasped, scrambling to set the salve on the rickety table beside the bed.

Geralt was on him, rucking up his shirt and shoving down his breeches. Jaskier clung on, trying to steal kisses between the rough bites Geralt was covering him with.

“Let go of my fucking hair,” Geralt growled, grabbing Jaskier’s wrist and pinning it to the bed above his head. Jaskier’s second wrist soon followed the first. “What is your obsession?”

“I… I’m sorry,” Jaskier gulped, thrashing against Geralt’s hold and rolling his hips in search of friction. “I… it’s so beautiful that I… Ah, oh, yes- no- I won’t touch anymore.”

“Hmm,” Geralt wasn’t actually angry. In truth, he liked Jaskier’s touch. He would tell him later, but for now, he wanted to play the brute and punish Jaskier for his tenderness. Geralt ripped off Jaskier’s clothes (without actually ripping them. Neither could afford to replace them) and tossed the garments on the floor. He returned Jaskier’s hands to their position above his head.

“Don’t move your hands,” Geralt whispered into Jaskier’s ear, making the bard shiver all over as Geralt’s lips brushed against him.

“Okay,” Jaskier breathed, hooking a leg over Geralt’s hip without even realizing it.

Geralt brought his open hand down on Jaskier’s thigh and Jaskier just moaned, gripping harder. “And I thought there was something wrong with me,” Geralt said, slapping Jaskier again. “But you _like_ pain. It turns you on, doesn’t it?” This time he gripped Jaskier’s hair, forcing his head to one side so he could bite at Jaskier’s neck. “Now that’s depraved. Look at what you’re making me do.” Geralt bit down hard and Jaskier yowled. Geralt released his hair and clapped his hand over Jaskier’s mouth. The last thing he needed was to get kicked out of the inn before they were finished.

Covering Jaskier’s mouth had the opposite to the intended effect. Jaskier just moaned and lipped at Geralt’s fingers.

“You are too fucking loud,” Geralt withdrew from Jaskier, who keened at the loss and reached out for Geralt.

“I told you not to move your hands!” Geralt roughly gripped Jaskier’s shoulder and hip to shove the bard onto his stomach. Jaskier scrambled to place his hands above his head but it was too late. Geralt hit Jaskier on his bottom, first one side, then the next. The skin rapidly turned pink, then red and Jaskier’s breath was coming out in moans and sobs.

“Do you like that?” Geralt asked, settling his hand on Jaskier’s warm buttocks.

“Yeeeesssssss!”

“Is it too much?” Geralt asked. He didn’t want to stop; he’d never been so turned on in his life. He could see his handprints on Jaskier’s ass and tooth marks on his neck. He could hear the bard’s muffled sobs and smell the heady mix of arousal and sex and sweat, with undertones of beeswax and the salt of Jaskier’s tears. Even so, if Jaskier wasn’t enjoying this it was over.

“No, please, don’t stop,” Jaskier begged, struggling to turn over. His face was as red as his ass, the blush spreading over his shoulders and chest.

“Are you saying that just to appease me?”

“No, no. Please. I want it. I want you, I want…” Jaskier babbled, flopping back on the bed only to get his knees under him so he could push his hips up and back. “Please.”

Geralt ran his hand over Jaskier’s rear, petting him, before cruelly pinching the sensitized skin.

“Please, please,” Jaskier chanted.

Geralt swatted him a couple more times, Jaskier’s body rocking with the force. Bruises were started to form and Geralt reined himself in. He wanted to hurt Jaskier, not damage him. Instead, he shifted his focus to Jaskier’s cock, stroking the length, allowing the bard’s sensitive skin to scrape over Geralt’s callouses.

“Are you, are you…” Jaskier trailed off when Geralt’s free hand settled between his shoulders, holding him down. “Are you going to fuck me?”

“Do you want me to?” Geralt tugged on Jaskier’s cock.

“Ah, yes! Yes please!”

“I thought you said you’d need…” Geralt twisted his hand over the head, collecting the precome gathered there. It eased the way of the rough handjob Geralt was administering. “More time.”

“I want to try,” Jaskier moaned.

“Hmm. I’ll have to stop touching you here,” Geralt squeezed. “Is that what you want?”

“N…yes, yes, I… please.”

Geralt released Jaskier, who whimpered at the loss. Geralt quickly opened the jar of salve and with no preamble, eased one finger into Jaskier, who squawked with surprise, but it quickly turned into a groan as Geralt sank inside.

“Good?”

“Yes, yes good,” Jaskier rocked his hips back, taking Geralt’s finger to the knuckle. “Can I touch myself? Please?”

“No,” Geralt withdrew his finger and pumped it back in. “I want to see if you can come just from this.”

Jaskier whimpered but didn’t move his hands.

“Have you ever come this way? Without touching your prick?” Geralt asked, adding a second finger. He wished there was some way to record the sounds Jaskier was making. Like drawing a picture, but one you could hear, one you could listen to any time you liked. Geralt shook his head at the silliness of the thought. Why make a copy of a sound he could pull from the bard so readily?

“No,” Jaskier gasped, in reply to Geralt’s question. “I’ve never… Gods, Geralt, please.”

“Please what?” Geralt curled his fingers into Jaskier’s sweet spot and the bard mewled. “Do you want more?” Can I fuck you now? Geralt wanted to ask but didn’t. With the state he was in, Jaskier would probably say yes whether he was ready or not.

“Yes,” Jaskier begged and moaned when Geralt added a third finger. The moan was tinged with pain and fresh tears were leaking from Jaskier’s eyes, but he didn’t seem distressed. Well, he was obviously distressed, but he was enjoying it too.

Geralt proceeded carefully, more slowly than before. He could feel Jaskier’s internal muscles protesting against him so he paused and lowered his head to kiss Jaskier’s back. Geralt used his free hand to pet Jaskier’s flank and run his fingers through his hair. He dropped the growl and allowed his voice to be soft when he said “That’s it, relax. You’re doing well, Jaskier. You’re being so good for me. Look, you’ve kept your hands still, just like I asked. So good.”

Jaskier sobbed and Geralt wasn’t sure if it was from the praise or because his internal muscles relaxed and Geralt was able to push deeper inside.

“I want you,” Jaskier whimpered into the bed.

“You have me.”

“No, your cock. I want it inside me.”

Geralt frowned, looking down at Jaskier’s hole stretched around his fingers. He scissored them and Jaskier cried out. “I don’t think you’re ready yet. Just a little more.”

Jaskier moaned in disagreement but held still and allowed Geralt to stretch him further.

“Good, good,” Geralt murmured, curling his fingers once more before withdrawing his hand completely.

“Geralt!”

“Are you ready?”

“Yes, Gods, I’ve been ready since I first laid eyes on you, you brute! Get inside me, please.”

“So bossy,” Geralt echoed Jaskier’s words from their last encounter, carefully applying the thick salve to his cock, then adding more around Jaskier’s rim. He lined the head up with Jaskier and pushed, just a little.

Jaskier groaned and pushed back, stopping and starting at irregular intervals. Geralt forced himself to hold still, though all he wanted to do was plough into Jaskier’s tight heat. But that wouldn’t do. _Hurt, not damage_ , Geralt reminded himself as he allowed Jaskier to work himself onto his cock.

After what felt like hours the head of Geralt’s cock popped inside and Jaskier paused, panting. His interior muscles were straining again and Geralt reached down and held Jaskier’s cock.

“Oh,” Jaskier said softly, not daring to move as his body struggled to adjust to the intrusion. “I thought you weren’t-”

“I still want to see if you can come without this,” Geralt said with a bit of that growl that always seemed to pique Jaskier’s arousal. “But you’re not ready to come yet, are you? Maybe we’ll just stay like this. We have the room all night, after all.”

Jaskier panted and made no other reply.

Geralt slowly stroked Jaskier’s cock. His hand was slippery with the salve now and moved smoothly. It only took a few strokes for Jaskier to start moaning, and then he started moving. He took an inch, then slowly eased away, then another inch. Two steps forward and one step back until Geralt was fully sheathed.

It made Geralt feel weak. His legs quivered and his hands lost their strength. He gripped Jaskier’s hips but could do little else. Both men huffed, caught in the moment. Caught with each other and unable or unwilling to move until a full-body shiver shook Jaskier and spurred Geralt into action.

Geralt withdrew slowly, until all that remained inside was the head. Then he pressed in. Geralt had to find his strength again as Jaskier lost all of his, legs practically collapsing out from under him. Geralt guided him down so that Jaskier was lying prone. The new angle forced Geralt’s cock to slide over Jaskier’s sweet spot with every movement.

“Please, please, please,” Jaskier chanted, trying to push back at Geralt but finding himself too weak, too overwhelmed and overstimulated to do anything but lay there. His head felt foggy, he felt as if he were floating. It was as if every part of his body was being touched and he could dimly hear Geralt panting and grunting and then a warm heat washed over him, growing and growing until the pleasure spiked and Jaskier was coming, just like Geralt had wanted.

Geralt kept going but Jaskier didn’t mind. He let his mind drift and float and was dimly aware when Geralt finished, heating him from the inside. Geralt rolled them both over to their sides, spooned together just the way Jaskier liked.

He was sad it was over, though the tears slowly tracking down his face were not unhappy.

“You okay?” Geralt asked gruffly. Jaskier only barely heard him.

“Jaskier? Answer me.”

“Hmm?”

“Are you hurt?” The edge of worry in Geralt’s voice pulled Jaskier back to earth. He didn’t want to return, but Geralt needed him.

“I’m good,” Jaskier murmured, catching one of Geralt’s hands in both of his own. “Need a minute.”

Geralt laid, tension hardening his lax muscles. Had he hurt Jaskier so badly that he’d passed out? Dissociated? Geralt had done both as a child during his trials and the thought that he had done that to Jaskier made his stomach churn.

Geralt breathed deeply. No, no this wasn’t the same. Jaskier’s face was peaceful, not pained. He was relaxed and slow to respond, but he <em>was</em> responding. He said he needed a minute and it had been more than that but Geralt had to wait. He had to calm himself and wait so he could find out what was going on.

After an eternity Jaskier squeezed Geralt’s hand, then turned in his arms so they were nose to nose.

“Geralt,” Jaskier said softly, eyes still half-closed.

“Jaskier,” Geralt said, struggling to keep his voice calm and soft with only partial success. “What the fuck was that?”

“What?” Jaskier’s eyes fluttered open and he stared at Geralt’s face. “What’s wrong?”

“You went all limp and weren’t answering me- what did I do? Fuck, I knew I shouldn’t have fucked you yet-”

“Huh?” Jaskier struggled through the fog, trying to wrap his brain around why Geralt was so upset. “What do you mean?”

“Why are you acting like this? What did I do?” Geralt went from demanding to pleading. “Please, Jaskier, tell me what I did. How can I fix it? How do I make it better?”

“Better? This is better. That was very likely the best fuck of my life.”

“Then why did you mind leave?” The gruffness was back, covering confusion.

“Oh,” Jaskier finally understood. “Oh, that, that happens sometimes, when it’s good.”

“ _What_.”

“Yeah, it’s, um, a thing. That happens. Especially when there’s pain and stuff. I get to this place where I just drift and it’s wonderful. Geralt, why are you looking at me like that?”

“You’ve done this before?”

“Yes…”

“And it’s a good thing?”

“Yes!”

Geralt frowned, staring into Jaskier’s wide, honest eyes.

“You did everything right,” Jaskier said softly. “Well, except for getting all upset, but if you’ve never brought a partner there before I can see how it would be… disconcerting.”

Jaskier lifted his hand as if to smooth some of Geralt’s hair behind his ear, but then abruptly dropped his hand. Geralt took it and placed it on his head.

“I don’t actually mind,” Geralt murmured.

Jaskier smiled and petted Geralt’s hair, letting his eyes drift closed. “Can I have my afterglow now?”

Geralt sighed, relaxing his muscles one by one. “You scared the shit out of me.”

“I’m sorry,” Jaskier murmured, his hand stilling to cup Geralt’s cheek.

“You’re really all right?”

“Yes. Promise.”

“Okay.” Geralt resettled Jaskier, holding the smaller man closer and working the blanket over them.

***

Later that night, after they had eaten, Jaskier approached Geralt while he was sitting on the bed, checking over his gear. Jaskier knelt on the floor at Geralt’s feet, resting his head against Geralt’s thigh and waited.

When Geralt finished what he was doing he carded his fingers through Jaskier’s hair and gently tipped the bard’s head up so they could look at each other.

“I’m sorry I upset you,” Jaskier said earnestly. “It’s my fault- I should have explained more about these games. I just… you’re so _old_ , Geralt. I forget you’re new at this, even though I know you are.”

“I thought I’d hurt you,” Geralt replied, voice tight as he tried to control his emotions. “During one of the trials, I was in so much pain that I just… left; I have no memory of what happened after that. When I came to I was told they had assumed I’d passed out, but I hadn’t. I was afraid I’d done that to you.”

“Oh, Geralt,” Jaskier straightened up, hugging the bigger man. “I’m so sorry you went through that. No wonder you were… No, you didn’t hurt me, dear heart, you made me feel incredible. But we won’t do it again if it upsets you like this.”

“I…” He wanted to ask for more reassurance, for Jaskier to tell him over and over that what he’d done was good and right. Geralt pushed the urge down. Repeating it wouldn’t make it more true. It was pointless to ask, weak.

The silence stretched out. Jaskier could tell that Geralt’s tolerance for emotional labour was at its limit so he changed the subject to something a little easier. “Did you like the other parts?”

“Yes,” A warm smile spread across Geralt’s face before he could stop it. “I liked when you moved your hands and I got to…”

“Punish me?”

“Yes. And I liked it even more when you kept them still after.”

“I liked that too. And when you made me frantic for you.”

“But… you cried.” Pride and shame twisted together at the memory.

“Not all tears are bad. Sometimes it feels good, another kind of release.”

“Hmm.”

“Did that upset you?”

Geralt wanted to say yes, because who in their right mind wants to see their lover weep? “No.”

“Good.” Jaskier crawled into Geralt’s lap to snuggle him more thoroughly. “Would you tell me other things you’d like to do? I can tell you what I like, too. For next time.”

“You start,” Geralt agreed. He still felt confused and emotionally exhausted, but having Jaskier chatter at him instilled a sense of normalcy.

“What don’t I like?” Jaskier chuckled. “No, there are actually lots of things I’m not interested in, but most of them are quite, ah, unusual. But being held down, that was good, and I like being tied up too. Being hit is good, but if you went much harder than you did today it would be too much. Getting hit with things can also be nice, but with your strength maybe not. I have enjoyed riding-crops and the like before, but I steer clear of things like switches and single-tailed whips. Getting teased, forced to wait… which I guess you figured out for yourself already. Blindfolds, candlewax-I mentioned that before, didn’t I? I love the way you talk to me and look at me. I love the biting and scratching, oh, and when you rub your stubble on me, especially on the smooth parts of my back…”

Jaskier carried on, but most of it was variations of the same theme. He didn’t seem to expect Geralt to contribute, and Geralt let his mind wander, imagining the various scenarios and positions that Jaskier described.

It all sounded good. Erotic. But there was one thing Geralt craved that he knew was impossible. When he had hit Jaskier, it had only been with a fraction of his strength and that had almost been too much. Geralt wished he could unleash, truly. He wanted to beat Jaskier as hard as he could for as long as he wanted. Obviously he couldn’t. Even if he only used his hands he would kill the bard. It was a desire he would never be able to indulge in, but Geralt consoled himself with the knowledge that he could do just about anything else he wanted to Jaskier and it would welcome it.

“Of course, I also like to be the one delivering a lot of this,” Jaskier was still talking when Geralt tuned in. “So if you ever want to experiment with trading roles I would be happy to indulge you. Whatever you want.”

Geralt wrapped his arms tightly around Jaskier and pressed his lips against Jaskier’s throat.


	4. Chapter 4

Jaskier had just finished clearing away the breakfast things and putting out the fire when he looked up to see Geralt standing by Roach. Their bags and her tack were all neatly set out, but Geralt was not making a move to get Roach ready. He also wasn’t wearing his armour, but he was wearing a predatory smile.

“Want to play?” Geralt asked, slowly advancing on Jaskier, adjusting the small pack slung across his back.

“Yes,” Jaskier stilled, staring up at Geralt when he stopped in front of him.

“Then perhaps you should run.”

Jaskier scrambled up to his feet and started backing away, uncertainly.

“Ten.”

“What?”

“Nine.”

“Right, yeah, right, I see.”

“Eight.”

“Running away now!”

Geralt closed his eyes and finished counting before opening them again and taking a good look around the clearing. There- a flash of bright yellow between the trees. Geralt took off, running lightly until he skidded to a halt to find Jaskier’s discarded doublet hanging from a tree branch. Geralt laughed, then quieted himself to listen. Morning birdsong made it difficult to pick out any noises the bard might have been making, so Geralt focussed on his sense of smell. He stalked quietly through the woods. He didn’t find any more clothes but did catch a whiff here, a glimpse there, until he had zeroed in on Jaskier’s location.

Geralt crept around Jaskier’s position and intentionally stepped on a twig. He heard Jaskier’s quiet gasp and the bard ran in the direction Geralt had intended. He chased Jaskier, always a little bit behind until they reached the tree that Geralt had scouted out earlier. It was then that Geralt threw himself at Jaskier, taking him down but ensuring that Geralt’s broad back broke their fall. He quickly rolled to pin Jaskier under him and threw off the pack.

Jaskier was panting under him, trying to squirm away but with the majority of Geralt’s weight resting on him, he didn’t have a chance.

Geralt groped blindly into the pack, withdrawing a length of rope.

“You planned this?” Jaskier sputtered as Geralt bound his captive’s hands together.

“Hmm,” Geralt growled in reply.

“I’m not sure if I should be afraid, or very, very excited.”

“Both,” Geralt replied, dragging Jaskier to his feet by the hair.

“ _Ow_ , oh, oh no.”

Geralt froze. “Too much?”

“Uh, no, no. Sorry, I won’t say that again unless I mean it.” Jaskier licked his lips nervously. He smelled of arousal and excitement and fear. But only a little fear, and his eyes shone in that way of his when he watches Geralt fight a monster, or pinned down and about to get ravished.

Geralt raised Jaskier’s bound hands and fastened them securely to an overhead branch. Jaskier could just support himself if he was on his tiptoes, but if he relaxed his legs then his arms had to bear the weight.

“You’re skipping ahead!” Jaskier whined, trying to find the most comfortable position. “I hadn’t even told you about this sort of thing yet.”

“Still fun?”

“Gods yes.”

Geralt set about undressing Jaskier. First, he tucked the hem of Jaskier’s light chemise into his collar, barring him from the mid-back down. Next, he pulled Jaskier’s breeches and smalls down to his knees to hobble him and expose his backside.

Jaskier whined and twisted and panted throughout the process, but was thoroughly enjoying himself until Geralt stepped back and started mucking about in a bush.

“Geralt? What are you doing?”

“What’s it look like?” Geralt asked, turning around to reveal the long, narrow stick he had cut off of the bush.

Jaskier’s eyes went wide. Geralt paid him no mind and trimmed off the leaves and little branches.

“Geralt…”

Geralt tested it, slicing through the air.

Jaskier’s fear was rising now, close to panic and he tried to dance away from Geralt but he couldn’t. He could hardly even twist away, he was strung up so tight. Geralt flicked the air by Jaskier’s hip and the bard squeezed his eyes closed bracing for impact and-

_Thud_

He heard it more than felt it. He’d been expecting white-hot stripes of pain but instead, there was a dull impact with only a hint of sting. It didn’t even hurt, not really.

“The fuck-” Jaskier twisted around to see Geralt with the most delighted yet sadistic grin Jaskier had ever seen. And he was holding an instrument with many long, leather tails.

“Rabbit fur,” Geralt said smugly, dragging the soft tails over Jaskier’s rump.

“You sadistic bastard! You-you fiendish animal, you really had me going there! I nearly had a heart attack, you brute. Why would you do that to me?” Jaskier carried on, hardly even flinching when the rabbit flogger landed on him. His panic melted away, leaving only adrenaline behind, as well as the excitement and arousal that had been simmering in the background while Geralt fucked with him.

“Do I need to gag you?” Geralt huffed, landing a harder hit on Jaskier’s back.

Jaskier attempted to focus on what Geralt was doing. It felt nice, the rhythmic impacts were lulling, but Jaskier was still too hopped up to pay attention. His heart was beating wildly and he was practically vibrating.

“Geraaaalt,” He fretted, twisting his hands.

“Hmmm?”

“I need... I need...”

Geralt stepped into Jaskier’s space, wrapping a strong arm around Jaskier’s middle and pulling the smaller man against his chest. Geralt nuzzled at Jaskier’s hair and licked the sweat off his throat while making humming and shushing noises. Perhaps this had been too much, too intense. Geralt was about to offer to untie Jaskier, who was calming under his touch.

Jaskier craned his neck for a kiss, which Geralt gave to him. He surprisingly gentle and when they broke apart Jaskier was breathing heavily. “Okay, I’m ready.”

“You sure? We could stop...”

“Yes, please. Show me what you can do with that thing.”

Geralt backed up and resumed flicking the flogger over Jaskier’s back. He started with lighter strokes and gradually ramped up the power he put behind them. At half his strength Jaskier started to grunt and moan. At three quarters the bard was wriggling, his hard cock bobbing.

Geralt felt elated. He was hitting Jaskier harder and harder, but it wasn’t too much. The vendor who sold the flogger to Geralt was right- the soft fur couldn’t possibly harm Jaskier, no matter how much force Geralt put into it. There were a few light stripes blooming across Jaskier’s fair skin, but Geralt could tell they wouldn’t last more than a few hours. A day at most. He was getting what he had thought to be impossible: Jaskier’s fear, his arousal, and being able to hit the bard as hard as he could. By now Jaskier had stopped moving, relaxed in his bonds and breathing deeply.

Geralt paused to walk around Jaskier and look at his face. He had the same absent but blissful expression he had worn the other night when Geralt had fucked him for the first time. Geralt kissed Jaskier on the forehead and stood back to paint Jaskier’s belly with the flogger. When the skin there was pink and warm Geralt moved in to hold Jaskier tightly, lifting him up a little so he could undo the slipknot he’d used to secure the bard to the tree branch.

Jaskier slumped into Geralt’s arms and Geralt sat, holding Jaskier in his lap while he located the pack and the blanket within it. He spread the blanket, and carefully laid Jaskier on top of it.

“You did well,” Geralt’s voice was so low he wouldn’t be surprised if Jaskier couldn’t hear it. Not that he would be able to answer in this state. But Geralt felt compelled to speak so he continued, laying close to Jaskier and stroking his face. “You were so brave, little dear, you deserve a reward.”

Jaskier hummed curiously. He must be starting to come back.

Geralt petted and kissed his way down Jaskier’s body, settling between his legs. Jaskier hummed again, this time sounding pleased, and shifted his thighs a little wider. Geralt gave Jaskier’s cock the same treatment he had to the rest of the bard- soft strokes and nibbles, oh so gentle.

“Mmm,” Jaskier mewled, one hand lazily resting on Geralt’s shoulder.

Geralt played a little longer before taking Jaskier in his mouth, sucking gently before allowing him to slide most of the way out. He kept up the slow, lazy pace until Jaskier’s nails started to bite into Geralt’s shoulder, at which time he turned up the intensity. He took Jaskier deeper, sucked harder. His tongue worked the underside and then the head as it slipped out, only to be taken back in.

Jaskier was moaning now, jumbled sounds tumbling from his lips. It sounded as if he wanted to speak but couldn’t find his words so he made do with mostly vowel sounds. His other hand was on Geralt now, in his hair. Not grabbing or guiding, but just touching.

Geralt kept up a steady pace, using his hands to stroke Jaskier’s sides and to hold his hips. Jaskier gripped Geralt’s hair in warning before he came, shuddering, into Geralt’s mouth. Geralt held him in his mouth until the aftershocks eased, then crawled up to hug Jaskier tight. He rolled Jaskier in the blanket, not bothering to fix his clothes yet.

They lay together quietly for a while, Geralt humming tunelessly to help ground Jaskier as he came out of his trance. Soon the humming took on the melody of the song that Jaskier had been working on. “ _It’s not fair,”_ the words came out low and gruff, but releasing the words felt good so he sang. “ _It’s not fair how much I…”_ The tightness in his chest told him what came next, even though he’d never heard Jaskier say the words “ _love you.”_

Something inside, something he didn’t even know was tensed relaxed. The feelings that have been so confusing, the ones he had been trying to ignore, settled. _Yes_ , Geralt thought. _This is right._

Jaskier snuggled even closer, gripping Geralt, but he didn’t seem able or willing to talk just yet.

“I can’t believe you let me do all that to you,” Geralt murmured, stroking Jaskier’s hair and dotting his face with kisses. “Why didn’t you stop me when you were so scared?”

“I trust you,” Jaskier said quietly, and it meant more to Geralt than anything else he could have said. He didn’t speak again for long enough that Geralt thought the conversation was over, but then the bard added “If the switch was something that you needed, I was willing to try. For you.”

Gods, the things Jaskier could do to him with just a few mumbled words. Geralt hugged Jaskier even tighter somehow and Jaskier hugged back. They held each other and felt each other and Geralt was finally, finally at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> Visit me on tumblr, username kinkykinker


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